


Desperation

by crassenoughtocare



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, almost blackrom, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:23:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crassenoughtocare/pseuds/crassenoughtocare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eridan has a gun, and Aradia finds herself at the other end of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperation

All is silent in the hall as Aradia makes her way back to her respiteblock. She gives off a mild glow, leaving the faintest trail of red behind her. About halfway there, she freezes, sensing something that makes her skin prickle with anxiety. Someone else is there, and they are not friendly. As quickly as possible, she dims her light, vanishing away her wings and luminous power. But its too late. He laughs, raspy and low, forcing a chill down her spine.

“Tsk tsk tsk, _ohh Ara_. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to be out this late alone? You should know what could happen to a gutterblood like you. _Foolish_.” His voice is mocking, harsh, unlike his usual whine of self pity. Whatever has gotten into him, its not good. Something is pressing into her lower back. It takes her a second to realize that its the barrel of a gun. Not his regular harpoon, either. Not the crosshairs, this is a real gun with bullets that could not kill her, but could still wound and make her wish for death. Where the hell did he even get that thing?

“Eridan, what is this?” She asks, her voice trembling slightly, despite her best efforts. He just chuckles again, sliding up against her. One of his arms slips around her waist, slowly, settling on the opposite hip. The other, holding the gun comes up to trace her face, brushing against the loose locks of hair that fall from her hood. His breath is hot against her ear, his entire body is hot against her body. Aradia knows what is coming.

“I’m done bein’ ignored. Would it fuckin kill you to show a guy some pity? Or hate. I’m not picky. I’ll even give you the choice. Which is awful generous a me. You don’t deserve a choice. You are _dirt_.” By now his hand has become more adventurous. It explores her body, leaving a burning, filthy trail in its wake. He spends particular time on the curve of her ass, and she can feel his bulge pressing into her lower back. The barrel of the gun brushes her lips.

No. She knocks the gun away, lurching forward to escape, but he is too quick. His arms grip around her waist and neck, hauling her into a side room, filled with nothing but work tables and scraps of metal and wire.

Eridan is terrifyingly competent. She wrenches out of his grasp, knocking him square in the face with her elbow. A satisfying crunch tells her his nose has broken. Her body hums with hate, she hasn’t felt like this in sweeps, ever maybe. And for some terrible, foolish reason, she doesn’t abscond. She just hits him again. He doubles over briefly, then straightens himself to whack her across the face with the hand that holds the gun.

She is bleeding, she knows, maroon pouring out of her cheek. Her face throbs, whatever cut her, his rings or some part of the gun, was not meant to slice, her skin was split from force. As she hits the floor she is almost shocked enough to snap her out of it. But the hate keeps pouring through her, fueling her to rise, only to meet his hand, giving her a hard slap.

On her knees now, Eridan shoves away her hood, then rips her hair down from its bun. Both of them are breathing heavily, gasping for air. He lowers the barrel against her forehead, then continues to move it until it reaches her lips. Purple blood drips down his face, into his mouth, staining his teeth. His grin is sinister, pleased, triumphant. He is feeling the same thing she is.

The barrel presses against her lips, and he pushes forward, against her teeth now. Refusing to let him win just yet, she swallows her fear and opens her mouth, gazing up at him defiantly as she lets him slide the barrel further into her mouth. The gun is not cocked and his finger is not on the trigger, but still he holds it as if he might kill her at any moment if she fails to comply. The metal pushes further into her mouth, then pulls back, then presses in again.

He’s fucking her mouth with it.

The realization unnerves her a bit, which is why she wraps her lips around it, eyes locked on his, and gives a small whimper. His nostrils flare, picking up any sign of lust like a shark to blood. The next thrust is a little rougher, this is not a purely sexual thing, the gun fellatio, it is a display of dominance. He is putting her in her place. When it becomes truly uncomfortable, the barrel scraping her throat and hitting her teeth too many times, he takes note and withdraws, laying the revolver aside.

As soon as she catches her breath, she leaps forward, knocking him against the wall. Her fist meets his jaw and her claws dig into his shoulder just before he slaps her ear, painfully forcing the air inward. She falters, and its enough time for him to grab her by the hair and haul her to one of the tables.

Roughly he shoves her face down on the table, pulling down her pants and underwear, maneuvering them off before he stops. His hips press her into the edge uncomfortably, but the fact that he has stopped scares her enough to chase the pain away. 

She hears him remove some amount of his clothing, what exactly she can’t say. The next noise she hears is far too familiar for comfort. Its the metallic scrape of a blade being unsheathed. Not long, but a decent knife. But still. He has a knife, and almost certainly intends to use it on her.

Aradia reaches across to grip the other edge of the table, her forehead pressed against the cool metal as she attempts to relax as much as she can. The edge of the blade skims the skin of her back as he cuts the shirt off her back. Following that are hot kisses that leave a wet path down her spine. She shivers at his sudden tenderness, so illogical and uncalled for in this situation.

Without warning he shoves two heavily ringed fingers into her nook, and she lets out a tiny cry as he starts moving them, his nails and rings blending discomfort bordering on pain and pleasure. Her hair is brushed away gently, so he can kiss her neck. 

"You want this, don't you? You fucking like this. What would Sol say? Seein' you moan like a whore for me." His fingers draw out of her, too fast and rough. Eridan swiftly replaces them with his bulge, losing himself for a moment in the tight heat of her. Aradia tries to hold back a moan but fails miserably. "Fuck. Ara." He folds himself over her, face pressed between her shoulder blades. Judging by the sound of his voice, she imagines his face is blissed out, and it dawns on her that he may have never done this before. His first time acquired with a revolver. It either makes her pity him or hate him more, but she forgets when he starts moving. 

He's saying something she can't quite make out as he rocks his hips, slow and shallow. She rolls her hips back against him as much as she can, encouraging him to move deeper, which he does. He runs his fingers through her hair, too sweetly for her tastes in hate sex. Finally she figures out his speech. 

"Aradia, Aradia, oh fuck, god you're perfect. I'm sorry.  I'm sorry. I just need you so bad. Why do you do this to me? Ah god- You feel so good. I hate you I _hate you I fuckin’ hate you so much_." The more he babbles on, the rougher he gets. He slams into her ruthlessly, making her knees weak, and she lets go, allowing her voice to keen and whimper, trying to drown out any words that show the cracks in his hate. 

But she still gets the impression that this was not random. He didn't wait in the shadows for anyone to waltz by. He waited for her. He knew he couldn't really kill her, and left his most deadly weaponry behind, choosing a dangerous yet less lethal weapon. Meant only to incapacitate her if need be. Eridan was smarter than he got credit for. He might have some potential after all. If he could get some more stamina at least.

Already he is shaking and twitching, calling out her name in between choked noises. Aradia is not as close as he is by far. Way too soon he comes, filling her with his disgusting genetics. As soon as he pulls out, she pushes herself up, turning around to face him, snarling.

“You started this, and if you ever want the chance of this happening again, you will finish it.” His face is unreadable, and he openly gawks at the sight of her naked front. A hand reaches forward to cup her breast, rubbing his thumb across the nipple, his expression now almost contemplative.

Apparently there wasn’t much to contemplate, because he lunges forward, clashing their lips together in a kiss that will certainly leave both of them bleeding. He wrenches her head back by her hair to bite and suck at her neck, leaving all the marks he can. His mouth finds her breasts and he takes his time with those, enjoying the little noises the stimulation elicits from her.

Ringed fingers find her nook again, pushing in slower, wriggling to avoid too much scraping from his rings. Aradia rocks her hips down onto the fingers, now able to better appreciate the rings he wears. She moves his thumb so it rubs her clit, because clearly he wasn’t going to pick up on that piece of anatomy on his own. When he slides a third finger in, Aradia instinctively spreads her legs wider, grinding against him as he moved faster, kissing her neck and face, and every once in a while she lets him kiss her on the lips, awkward and clumsy and cutting her with his teeth, but somehow pleasing.

When she comes Aradia finds herself not satisfied, just shaking and suddenly choking back tears. Eridan tries to kiss her gently and stroke her hair sweetly but she pushes him away, not wanting his apologies, loathing his pity.

He dresses silently and leaves, wiping at his freshly bleeding nose. From here, he will go one of two ways. Either wallow in guilt and confusion and frustration, or come back for more. Aradia hates herself for hoping he comes back, so she can be ready next time. At least they could have a mutual black romance, where both partners could hit and bite and hurt without one of them being crushed to a pulp by an embrace.

She pulls on her pants and holds the remains of her top around her chest, pushing considerations of a kismesis aside for now. Her bare feet carry her to the computer lab. He’ll be up. He’s always up at this hour.

Sollux spins around in his chair when he hears the transportalizer zap her into the room, his lips turning up at the sight of her before his jaw drops.

“I...Didn’t know you had a kismesis. Or were even considering someone.” The longer he looks at her the deeper the pit in his stomach gets. A good hatefuck might leave you battered and bruised, but it always gets you in a better mood, satisfied and relieved to get it out of your system for a while. Aradia doesn’t look like that. She just shakes her head and doesn’t look at him.

“I wasn’t. I- He just. He got me by surprise is all. Do you have a pail? I want this out of me now.” Sollux nods wordlessly and pulls out a bucket that normally he would be embarrassed to admit he has (just in case of emergencies, of course). Shaking, she pushes down her leggings and kneels over it, purple and red genetic material pouring out of her. Oh. Watching someone fill a bucket is usually incredibly erotic, but it just makes Sollux feel a little sick. He kneels beside her and pushes the bucket aside, helping her redress as much as is possible, then pulls her up gently.

“Let’s get back to your respiteblock and get you cleaned up, okay?” She nods, managing a small smile at him. He holds her hand, knowing its not enough, but at a loss as to how to help. Whatever happened, it wasn’t good, and it wasn’t healthy black romance.

Once in her room, he sits her down and cleans the blood off of her, continually finding new bites and scratches and bruises. One on her face has the imprint of several rings. Sollux suppresses the urge to go kill Eridan right that minute. That can wait. He is far more concerned with Aradia. She gets in the shower while Sollux gets her fresh clothes and leaves Kanaya a vague message about maybe needing some help tomorrow and possibly an auspistice.

After an hour, Sollux coaxes Aradia out of the shower because she’s going to scrub herself raw at this rate. He wraps her in towels and gets her in underwear and a shirt and eases her sobbing before she curls up on the pile.

“Stay. Please. I don’t- I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts right now.” He can’t imagine leaving her like this, so he climbs in with her, pulling the sheets over them and pulling her close. Aradia clutches him to her, burying herself in his scent. When Sollux, so different from Eridan, strokes her hair and kisses her, it feels right.


End file.
